You'll Be Okay
by LikeAPhoenix
Summary: “You’re going to be okay El.” He whispered, stroking my hair as I drifted off into a deep sleep. “You’re going to be okay.”


A/N-This is my second Degrassi fic, so it's probably not much. I wrote it for Lynne, my twinnie and Twilight buddy on DB.

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi or Iris by Goo Goo Dolls.

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_And I'd give up forever to touch you_

_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow_

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be_

_And I don't want to go home right now_

I can't feel a thing. Craig told me he loved me and I'm walking away. Considering I've been waiting for this day for quite some time, it probably doesn't make sense that I'm walking away. But it's what happened next that made me walk away. He asked me not to make him stop doing the drugs. That…that…I can't even think of a word bad enough to describe him. So now I'm walking home in the rain, emotionally numb, away from the only boy I ever truly loved. I'm walking because my stupid car wouldn't start. Chances are I screamed any swear word you could think of at my car. And probably a few I invented. I think I earned myself a one way ticket to hell. I should have known better than to give him my heart. That boy is dangerous. He's heaven and hell, all at once. Half of me wants to turn around and go back to him, the other half wants to go home and cry into Marco's shoulder.

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_And all I can breathe is your life_

_And sooner or later it's over_

_I just don't want to miss you tonight_

The rain is running down my face and plastering my hair to my head. My shoes thud dully against the wet pavement and I'm sure I look awful. But I don't care. Because my heart feels like it's been ripped out and stomped on until it's a bloody, broken mess. I wish I could think about something other than this night. My phone rings and I ignore it, not needing to see who it is. A few minutes later the voicemail chimes. As much as I don't want anything to do with him, I need to hear his voice. How pathetic is that? "Ellie, come on. I meant what I said. I love you El. I need you. I'm sorry. I screwed up, what else is new? Please call me back Ellie. Please. Let me explain in person. I'm sorry. I really am." I stare at my phone, nearly bumping into a man running to his car. I wish this night would just end already.

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window and flinch at what I see. My hair is matted and wet, my clothes are soaked, my makeup running from the rain. My eyes are dull, no hint of the shine they held on the way to the club. I push my hair away from my face and resume walking. I wrap my arms around myself to calm the shivers that have started to run through my body. My phone rings again and I show it into my bag. I don't want to talk to anyone. I'm close to home now, and the thought of dry clothes and Marco's inevitable swearing in Italian makes me pick up my speed a little. I step in a large puddle and water floods my already wet shoes. I can feel my socks getting wet, a feeling I hate. I hunch my shoulders against the rain and run the last few feet to the house.

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming_

_Or the moment of truth in your lies_

_When everything feels like the movies_

_Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive_

I fumbled with my key for a minute before getting the door open and stepping inside, shaking. I closed the door and locked it before turning to lean my back against it and sliding to the floor exhausted. I can't even cry, there are so many emotions fighting for control over me. I want to collapse here, on the cold floor, wet and exhausted. The emotional turmoil I'm feeling right now is something I haven't felt in a long time. I force myself to get up and mop up the puddle that marks the place on the floor I just vacated. "Marco?" I call out, turning on lights and heading up stairs. "Anyone home?" My calls are greeted with silence. I push my bedroom door open and turn on the light. Kneeling in front of my dresser, I push aside the clothes in the bottom drawer until I find what I'm looking for. I lean against my bed and pull my wet sleeve up just above my elbow. My fingers graze the now pale scars that mar my pale skin. I open the small case and pull something out. It glints in my hand as I turn it over in my fingers. I hold the small razor blade to my wrist, thinking back to all the group sessions. I'm reminded of him and any doubt is gone from my mind. I slide the blade across my skin, a thing line a red forming as I lift it. The pain came then, and broke the numbness. I slid the blade a couple more times, relishing the pain.

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

That's how Marco found me. I don't know how long I sat their before he came home. I was dazed and shivering hard when he kneeled down beside me put his jacket around me. He washed my wrist and put a bandage on the cuts. He got me out of my daze enough for me to take a long, hot shower and put on dry pajamas. Afterwards I curled up in my bed and he lay next to me, on top of my blankets. He put his arms around me and held me as I finally started to cry. He didn't try to force the story of what happened out of me. I knew he'd be asking in the morning though. "You're going to be okay El." He whispered, stroking my hair as I drifted off into a deep sleep. "You're going to be okay."


End file.
